Thoughts on Being a Hooker

They say that the thing you’re doing at midnight of the New Year is what you’ll be doing for the whole of that year. (I’m not sure who They is. Just as soon as I work it out, I’m going to get them into a room and ask them several questions. The first being, where do they come UP with this stuff?)

Either way, for the first time in my life, I got to kiss someone (who was unrelated to me) on New Year.

The fact that this person was Jenny and that it was really nothing more than a lipstick exchange is, I think, irrelevant. Clearly, this means I’m slated to find love this year. At least, that’s what I’m going with. Then again, I was dressed as a hooker. And I certainly hope THAT isn’t my future for the next 360 days.

I am not, by nature, a partier. I don’t party. I don’t do crowds. I don’t do strangers. I drink in moderation and I really don’t find any of the typical 21-year-old things all that enjoyable. I am, in a word, boring. But after the last several New Years, I was determined that this year would be fun. I wanted to do something other than sit on the couch and watch Dick Clark grow another year older.

He’s a little scary now, don’t you think?

And besides, this year was special. Una’s brother was in town and she wanted to do something special with him. And our cop friend Anna had the perfect plan. A party.

Yes, I know. You’re all in awe of the originality.

The theme? Pimps, Hookers, and 80’s Rockers. Now, the first two, I get. But that third one? Got me, as to how it fits in.

I admit, I was reserved. Going to a party where I knew almost no one, dressed as a hooker? Does that sound like something I would do? I mean, I just got a Kindle. I could have stayed home and read Dracula. This, by the way, is why Jenny accuses me of being a 30-year-old trapped in a 21-year-old’s body. I apparently lack normal 21-year-old behavior. Freshly stinging from that thinly veiled insult… (I don’t think it was meant to be. But damn it, I’m not THAT dull.)… I consented to go.

We were slated to go – Jenny, Anna, Una, and I, with Una’s brother Vedran (whose name I kept pronouncing Verdan) and Una’s boyfriend’s brother, John.

For the privacy of everyone involved, I will refrain from saying who did what. There was, at one point, a conversation that involved – I think – cop ruffling. I STILL don’t know what cop ruffling is. Nor do I want to know.

No, outing the acts of my friends on New Year’s eve would not be my style.

I will say:

There was some drinking.

I will never mix champagne and liquor again.

I did not get drunk. In fact, I turned down drinks. I don’t DO drunk.

However, drunk people amuse me.

None of my friends there did anything that they would need to be embarrassed to admit they did.

Una’s boyfriend’s brother did manage to slam my hand in the door of the women’s room.

Despite my antisocial tendencies, I had a good time.

Maybe it’s the hooker dress and makeup. I’m really not sure. But I look at these pictures and it shocks me how old I look. Wasn’t I just fourteen yesterday? When did I turn into an adult? When did I start going out for New Year’s eve?

Maybe that will say something for the new year. Maybe this is the year of growing up. Or maybe my body is just catching up to my personality.

And maybe, being with friends, swapping lipstick, and being amused by the antics of other people isn’t such a bad thing to hope for the rest of the year.

Hear’s hoping They are right.

*Bobs

 

3 Comments to “Thoughts on Being a Hooker”

  1. Great. Now you’ve done it.

    Cop ruffing? I couldn’t find a reference anywhere. Even Urban Dictionary turned up blank. You might not want to know, but I do!

  2. Cop ruffing …. hmmm no clue. But see now I gotta find it. Once I do .. it blogging time!

  3. I promise, Tom, Marina – as soon as I know, you’ll know. But I do expect a link back if you choose to blog about it *grin*

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